November 9th, 1882
Surprisingly I am writing today.
I made it past town without being seen, I just went out around far enough for no one to see me.
I have walked all night about 10 miles north. I am truly in the middle of the woods.
I should be sleeping but I needed to write to calm my nerves.
I am scared, I cannot lie. I do not know exactly what I am doing besides walking. I am thinking about walking another 20 miles north tonight, hopefully, end up near a river or at least a few miles close by so it is accessible before I start thinking about building or settling.
My goal isn't to continue travel, my goal is to find a place safe enough to live. Where hopefully no one that actually knows me will find me.
I know what you are thinking, what about marriage and children. I am not seeking it, if it comes naturally I will be happy... A woman is more than a wife and mother.
I am going to get a few hours of rest and continue my travels afterward.
YOU ARE READING
The Journal Of Martlina 1882
FantasyThe Journal of a young woman living in 1882, when writing and reading were just granted to women. When a man runs the world and a woman just lives in it. A story about finding love, war, and balance just to survive.
